Frequencies
by SheSailsShips
Summary: Emily discovers an alternate use for the modern radio, one that doesn't involve tracking gateways. Takes place at the begining of 04X06. Matt/Emily. One-shot.


**A/N:** I have a thing for missing scenes, so this little piece was sort of born out of my need to fill in some series four blank spots while simultaneously satisfying my need for Matt/Emily fluff. Timeline for this would be shortly before the Lester/Becker/Emily interrogation scene at the start of 04X06. As always, I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! I love to hear from you guys, be sure to drop a line!

(PS: if you have a need to better imagine music in these scenes, I did have Adele's _21_ on repeat as I wrote this...)

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><p>It was late morning, shafts of gold filtered in through the large panes of glass that made up the flat. Emily moved light across the hardwood, pausing halfway to the kitchen when she heard the rush of water cut off. His <em>shower <em>was finished- she had exited his room just in time. Her fingers working to push the last few buttons of the shirt she had so deftly _borrowed_ from his drawers in the previous moment, through their proper holes, she smooth her hands down the soft material and decided to look busy.

Turning towards the glass shelf behind her, one of the many she had inspected in that safe space of time before Ethan had threatened her life, she trailed her finger along the edge, feeling a recurring curiosity at the man she was staying with- how was it that he owned so few worldly possessions?

Her brow furrowing slightly, her dark eyes swept over empty space after empty space, none divulging any answers. She could hear his rustling in the next room, his steady tread moving across the floor. Biting on her lower lip in thought, Emily made to turn away from the bare shelves that taunted her, but hadn't taken more than a step when she noticed something black tucked away, pushed to the far reaches of the glass.

Interest peaked, she moved near once again and, closing both hands around the mysterious object- she pulled forward a strange looking black box. Gazing down in wonder, her fingers experimentally touched the various knobs and buttons decorating the front of the device. Her eyes studied the mysterious box, reading numbers she suddenly found familiar.

Emily blinked and stood back- _frequencies_, this was a radio. Recovering from her surprise, she reasoned that of all things, of course he owned a radio- he sought gateways just as she did. Resuming her inspection, her finger caught and stayed upon a large button, the word _power_ printed across it. There was a moment of hesitation- then she pressed. A low hum filled her ears as the button lit red and then came a sound she was all too acquainted with- static. Fortunately the volume was not up loud and with experience, she quickly turned the dial that controlled the different frequencies.

Her knowledge of radios and tracking gateways failed her in the next moment though as, instead of picking up a signal or changing to silence, a string of notes met her ears. Startled, Emily's hands fell away from the radio face. She stared on in disbelief as a woman's voice, soft and low, filled the air.

"It was here when I bought the place," a voice- distinctly male and Irish- suddenly spoke. Matt. Emily quickly pressed the _power_ button and turned around to face him, her pale skin coloring slightly at being caught. He stood only a few feet away, leaning casually against the kitchen counter- watching with that _expression _he so often used with her.

"How long have you been there?" she asked, attempting to keep out the self consciousness she felt. He moved away from the counter, his eyes answering _long enough_ with gentle amusement,

"You turned it off," he remarked, passing her to reach the radio.

Emily gazed at him and went to open her mouth in answer, but then pressed her lips in uncertainty. What was he saying, shouldn't she have? Did he have some need to track a gateway- but who was that woman? The flurry of feelings and questions passing through her were stilled as he pressed the _power_ button.

And then, filling the silence as if it had never gone- that voice, joined harmoniously by piano, the combined notes resounding off the floor and walls. Emily stared at the device she had only known to be a guide to gateways with new captivation. The music rose to a pleasant level and she pulled her attention away in time enough to see Matt's hand leave a knob. He turned to her, seeming as if trying to a gauge a reaction. _Is this okay? Is it too loud?_

Emily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, something she couldn't seem to resist doing when under his full gaze, and spoke in a kind of answer,

"There's music...coming from inside?"

Satisfied that she didn't wish him to turn the radio off, he gave a nod, a shadow of a smile gracing his lips. Emily glanced away from him and drifted towards the shelf- the sight of that _smile_, knowing her inquisitiveness was the cause, was...distracting.

"Is it a normal radio then, one used to find gateways?" she asked, fighting down a blush.

"Yes, but that's not really what they're commonly used for in this time," Matt answered, the timbre of his voice blending with the music. Emily looked to him in surprise, trendrils of brown hair slipping over her shoulders with the sudden movement.

"Oh? What other use is there...something to do with music?" she spoke, genuinely curious, leaning forwards to examine the versatile device once again.

There was pause with no immediate reply. The woman's voice rang out of the radio, penetrating Emily's chest as she continued her intent study of the strange musical box. Then a floor board creaked. Emily tore her dark eyes from the radio face and found herself locking them with Matt's. He had moved, halving the distance between them. It occurred to her that he hadn't answered her question, and so she tilted her head slightly, fixing him with an expectant look. His expression in return told her he was working on an answer, reaching just past her for the knobs on the radio.

Not particularly bothered by his proximity (they always seemed to share a small space from the moment he chased after her...), but rather by the suspense, Emily crossed her arms, becoming impatient for his reply. Matt fingers stopped working the dial, he had settled on something- something different than before- a woman's voice still projected through the room, but the tempo had changed. It was strange- Emily suddenly had the distinct desire to _move_.

"Radios aren't relied on for survival in this time, they're used as forms of entertainment- people listen to them," Matt finally spoke, facing her. Emily shifted where she stood, almost out of need, contemplating his answer.

"They listen..." she repeated thoughtfully, trying to grasp the unique use of the gateway finder.

"And dance," Matt added lightly, a glint coming into his eyes. Emily blinked- she hadn't thought of dancing, but then managed a smile,

"I see now," she said, eyeing the source of music interestedly. There was a beat, and then, unbidden, a thought struck her. Before she had a chance to reflect on it, the question was spilling past her lips, "Do you?"

Matt's focus shifted from the large panes of glass surrounding them, to her, "Do I what?"

Emily's took in a small steadying breath, attempting to ignore the riduclous fluttering she suddenly felt in her chest and replied, "Dance? Do you ever...?"

Matt's eyebrow's rose a fraction, but then his features softened, "I've been known to, on occassion."

Emily nodded silently, the slight curve of her lips mirroring his own. She knew should look away, move on...change the subject, but found herself unable to. Something new was entering his expression, there was a debate being warred in his eyes, and then, much as she had done the instant before, he asked an unexpected question,

"Would you like to?"

Emily's eyes widened with her smile- he was prone to mocking her, was he serious?_ Dance alone to music fashioned from a box? _

"Here, now?" she managed, realizing he was waiting on her answer.

He drew a step nearer, extending a hand,

"Why not?"

Any other moment, any other _man_, her instincts would have been: _say no, step away_- but a rebellious _yes_ was being whispered from a part of her she all but disowned in the past three years. Almost of their own accord, her feet closed the space between them. Her palm met his palm: _yes, why not? _

They were moving together before she was even aware, the motion steady, in time with the music swelling around them. The hold she found herself taken up in was like nothing of her century, pressed against him with not an inch to spare, their fingers laced. Her pulse quickened, though- surprising enough- not from a sense of offended propriety, but rather an odd _appropriateness_. Held as she was, turning circles cross the hardwood floor in bare feet, she was faced with an unanticipated _rightness_.

He lead, his hand occupying a place upon her lower back he seemed to favor. The light note of his scent, something of soap and leather, filled her senses. The warmth of him so near, sharing the same space, Emily found herself sorely tempted to dip her head just a bit further forward so that she might rest it in the crook of his neck- but she resisted, instead memorizing the skin exposed by his open collar. Upon her right shoulder she could feel his breath stirring her hair, the rise and fall of his chest in unison with hers as they moved across the floor.

For the first time since the cemetery, since coming through the gateway, she felt safe- comforted. Three minutes spent dancing with him and three years of tension began to ebb away from her shoulders. Propelled by notes streaming from the radio, and no desire to part, they continued to cover the space between his kitchen and his living room. And then- an unnatural _buzzing_ bleed into the music. Matt froze- and they came to a jarring halt. Startled and disoriented, Emily felt herself suddenly released, a gulf of cool air filling the space where their bodies once met. Her eyes flicked to his face in time to see a flash of something pass over it- _regret?_- and then he was standing at the kitchen counter, picking up the offending object that had torn her from a surreal peace.

"Matt Anderson-" he answered, his tone detached- nothing like the warm man she had just spent the morning with. It was his _phone_, someone was _calling_. Emily turned from his direction, attempting to correct the frown that wanted to settle across her lips. Composing herself, she adjusted her hair, tugged at his shirt- pointedly ignoring the unexpected ache of disappointment.

"Yeah, we'll be there as soon as we can...see you then."

There was a beep and a snap. Matt was finished with his _call_.

"That was the ARC," he spoke from behind her, his voice softer than before.

Emily gathered herself and faced him with a small smile- something she was well practiced at,

"Oh? They want you to come in?"

Matt looked down at the hand still holding his phone before returning her direct stare,

"Not just me, you too. Lester wants to discuss Ethan..."

Emily drew in a breath, and nodded, her arms coming to cross in front of her,

"Alright."

Matt returned her nod, but then his gaze shifted to just past her shoulder. Emily, sensing this change of focus, followed his eyes to the radio. Oblivious to the shattered moment, the music still played on. If that phone hadn't rang...

"We should go," Matt suddenly suggested, his voice low, barely audible over the stands of notes. Emily's arms loosened, the reminder of their dance, for an instant, successfully driving away the flustering thoughts of Ethan and the ARC.

"Let me gather a few things," she consented, moving past him to collect her coat and boots.

A brief time later, filled with the flurry of pulling on her leather jacket and mentally hardening herself to what lay a head, Emily found herself descending the stairs of Matt's flat.

"Matt?" she called once she realized that he wasn't right behind her. Sounds of movement answered her and then he appeared at the top of the landing holding up a small black box,

"Nearly forgot," he explained, clipping it to his belt. Emily knew the importance of the device, but her mind was on another. Distractly, she let him lead the rest the way down, a silent smile pulling at her lips. Reaching the outside, Matt closed the door and locked it behind them. Upstairs, on an empty shelf, a radio continued to play.


End file.
